


Lance's 5 + 1 Trope

by sheryl_sems



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Family Feels, Fluff, M/M, Super supportive friendships!, Tropes, klance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2020-04-04
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:41:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23483998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sheryl_sems/pseuds/sheryl_sems
Summary: Five times Lance tries and fails to implement the “5 times + 1 time” trope in his own life + the one time it works.
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 15
Kudos: 138





	Lance's 5 + 1 Trope

**Author's Note:**

> Hello friends! This is the only Klance (Voltron) fanfiction I've ever written. And honestly I started it almost a year and a half ago when I was super into Voltron and got a bit obsessed with Klance- so I got inspired by other fanfiction and started this one! I abandoned it ages ago but decided to come back to it recently during a writers block for my Bellarke stories. And I ended up finishing it! I found the concept funny and really had fun writing it so I hope you like it! Please leave comments and kudos if you enjoyed it xxx

  
**i.**  
 _Five times Pidge tutors Lance + 1 time he tutors her_  
  
  
In hindsight, Lance should have known this would not have worked. Pidge was a genius. There was a reason she was three years younger to all of them but still in the second year of University alongside them, her sixteen and the rest of them nineteen going on twenty.  
  
  
So yeah, expecting that she would _actually_ show up so that _he_ could tutor _her_? A little bit unrealistic.  
  
  
 _A lot unrealistic_ , Lance thinks, dropping his head into his folded arms on the table. He was literally one step away from making this 5 + 1 happen. He had forced her to help him with his physics homework five times in the last three weeks, slipping into free seats beside her every time she was studying and pulling forlorn expressions coupled with the puppy dog eyes he knows she can’t resist. She pretends that she can, but he knows otherwise.  
  
  
Once she helped him finish off his fifth paper, he waited for the right moment. He found out from Hunk that she had a ten page assignment coming up in a topic she wasn’t excelling at, which is _rare,_ so he jumps on the opportunity and spends the next 48 hours cramming in everything he possibly could about the topic until he could do said assignment in his sleep. He then texted Pidge saying they should study together that Wednesday afternoon and when she replied with a ‘ok’ (classic Pidge), he sat buzzing in his seat in the library for a full hour before their scheduled study session.  
  
  
But then she didn’t turn up. Which, okay, Lance should have seen coming. Because one, Pidge’s study schedule operates on her own terms, and on her own terms only. Second, if she isn’t going to show up for something one of the others have scheduled with her, she almost never informs them in advance. It’s not rude anymore, it used to be for sure, but it isn’t anymore. It’s just Pidge.  
  
  
“What the hell are you doing in a library?”  
  
  
Lance groans, pushing his head further into his arms and hoping that if he just _ignored_ , then the boy speaking would disappear. Though, if he was being entirely honest with himself, he didn’t fully really completely exactly want him to be gone. But honesty was for losers so whatever. Be gone, boy.  
  
  
“I have known you for two years now and I have never seen you in a library. Seriously, are you okay?” He finally lifts his head up to see Keith standing by the table, books in hand and eyebrows perked up amusedly.  
  
  
“I’m fine,” Lance grumbles, propping his chin up on the table and stretching out his arms in front of him, palms flat against the papers spread out around him.  
  
  
“You got an assignment due tomorrow?” Keith asks, stepping closer.  
  
  
“No, Pidge did,” Lance answers.  
  
  
“What?”  
  
  
Lance huffs and sits up straight. “Nothing.”  
  
  
“Right,” Keith rolls his eyes, probably chalking up Lance’s behaviour to just being _Lance_. Which, fair enough, it was. “Mind if I study here?”  
  
  
Lance stares. Because spending time one on one was not part of the Lance-Keith Friendship Manual. They had just about gotten over their rivalry ("one-sided on Lance’s part really," Hunk says and Lance vehemently denies) and had stopped flinging insults back and forth whenever they could (not one-sided any longer once Lance had made the first move because it wasn’t in Keith’s programming to back down from a fight). They could now sit in the same room and not (seriously) bicker. They’ve just never been the _only_ ones in the room.  
  
  
“Um,” Lance snaps out of it and flashes an, albeit slightly forced, grin at him and holds up a double thumbs up. “Yeah, why not.”  
  
  
Keith doesn’t really smile back, which is normal, and just drops into the seat across Lance, who is kind of glad that Keith _didn’t_ smile at him. He would never admit it (okay, he had admitted it to Hunk _once_ when slightly drunk), but the few times that Keith _had_ smiled at or near Lance, Lance had felt pretty damn weak for it. He hated it. Keith was his sworn rival for quiznack’s sake.  
  
  
When Pidge hadn’t shown up in the first half an hour of their session, Lance had been planning on packing up his stuff and going back to his room because Keith was annoyingly correct- Lance didn’t do libraries. But with every minute that passes, and every time he glances up at the boy across him, his urge to _stay_ increases. When Keith looks up at him, Lance averts his eyes quickly and ducks his head into his book. If he had looked back up, he’d have seen the small smile playing on Keith’s lips as he too, after a moment of soft lingering, returned his eyes to his book.  
  


* * *

  
  
**ii.**  
 _5 times Shiro walks Lance back to his dorm + 1 time Lance walks Shiro_  
  
  
Lance is positively _giddy_ with excitement. This was it. This was his 5 + 1. With none other than the genuine god amongst humans, Takashi Shirogane. Admittedly, this one had started off unintentionally. Lance was taking a class this term which took place on Wednesdays from 4 till 6pm. Since winter was basically here, by the time his class ended, it was miserably dark (and gloomy) and the fifteen minute walk back to his dorm wasn’t the safest. One text to his friends’ group chat and Shiro had offered to come over and walk him. And before he knew it, the fourth year student had happily come over the last five weeks to pick him up.  
  
  
So now he was fulfilling his duty as an amazing friend with the added bonus of also fulfilling his 5 + 1 by being outside Café Altea promptly at 7pm so that he could walk Shiro back to his flat.  
  
  
It was happening. It was finally happening.  
  
  
Until it… didn’t.  
  
  
7:05pm rolled around and when an employee _did_ walk out, it wasn’t Shiro. It was Keith, wrapped up in a red jacket and black scarf.  
  
  
“Lance?” He asks, eyebrows quirking up at the sigh of the other boy. Lance frowns and shoves his hands into the pockets of his blue jacket.  
  
  
“Where’s Shiro?” Lance asks.  
  
  
Now Keith frowns. “He called in sick. I’m covering for him. Why? Did you need something?”  
  
  
“No,” Lance can’t help but grumble, trudging forward while Keith walked towards him. They meet in the middle.  
  
  
“Uh, then…?” Keith asks, eyebrows furrowed. “You okay?”  
  
  
“Yeah, yeah,” Lance waves his hand before straightening up, squaring his shoulders and offering Keith a smile. “How was your shift?”  
  
  
“Uneventful,” Keith answers. “Are you- uh- waiting for something? Or walking back to your dorm?”  
  
  
“Walking back to my dorm, I suppose,” Lance bobs his head. “You?”  
  
  
“Me too,” Keith replies. “Which is good. Safer in numbers at this hour.”  
  
  
“You’re _not_ carrying your multiple knives today?” Lance exclaims dramatically as they begin walking side by side down the street.  
  
  
“Forgot them on my desk after sharpening them last night,” Keith shoots back, the corner of his lip quirking upwards. “Right next to my eyeliner.”  
  
  
“You joke but you still look like someone who listens to _Boulevard of Broken Dreams_ on repeat at a social event,” Lance says.  
  
  
“I feel exposed,” Keith deadpans.  
  
  
Lance glances at him and feels a bit warm at how _soft_ Keith looks under the light of the street-lamps. “You’re in a good mood today, making jokes and all.”  
  
  
Keith keeps facing forward though Lance notices his cheeks colour slightly. Must be the cold. His own nose feels frozen.  
  
  
Keith shrugs a shoulder, pushing his hands into his pockets. “Almost done with essays and all for the term, so- feeling less stressed.”  
  
  
Lance nods, “I’ve still got another five weeks. Since you know-“ He turns to grin widely at Keith, “-I do an _actual_ subject.”  
  
  
“Visual Arts _is_ an actual subject,” Keith growls before taking a deep breath and dropping his tense shoulders. “But you know that and you’re just riling me up.”  
  
  
Lance bumps their shoulders together, “Yeah. What you do is pretty cool.”  
  
  
“I’ve never let you see what I do.”  
  
  
“Yeah but, I know anyway,” Lance shrugs and looks ahead, missing the surprised expression Keith throws at him. “All that emo darkness must breed good art.” Keith barks out a laugh, shaking his head exasperatedly and Lance grins wider, looking back at him.  
  
  
“What are you doing for Christmas this year?”  
  
  
“It’s two months away, how the hell am I supposed to know?”  
  
  
“Because it’s _Christmas_ , Keith.”  
  
  
“You say that like it means something.”  
  
  
“Why am I friends with you- _how_ am I friends with you?”  
  
  
“I wouldn’t stretch our tentative acquaintanceship that far.”  
  
  
“Ignoring that but also- _Christmas_ , Keith! It is the queen of all holidays, even if you don’t celebrate it.”  
  
  
Keith sighs before running a hand through his hair, looking a bit frustrated and Lance instantly feels guilty. He feels even more so when Keith says, “I just- I never celebrated it before because I never had anyone to celebrate it with so… it’s not such a big deal for me.”  
  
  
They’re quiet for the remaining few minutes back to their dorms. Lance wants to say it but doesn’t know if he’d be overstepping. He wonders if he can rope one of the others into it to make it sound more _natural_ because Keith was right, they had just about become tentative friends. Would telling him this be weird?  
  
  
But he does. Because Lance sees the way Keith’s hurt eyes linger on families. And he sees the way his eyes light up an extra amount when Hunk cooks for him or Pidge (reluctantly) hugs him or when Allura asks him if he wants to go for a run or when Shiro has breakfast with him every Saturday. Keith probably doesn’t think anyone notices but Lance does. Of _course_ , Lance does. Because nothing has ever seemed more important to him than family (blood or not) and the thought that Keith has never had one makes his heart ache.  
  
  
They’re at Keith’s room, one floor below from Lance’s, when he finally speaks. “Hey.” Keith stops midway through fishing his keys out of his pocket and looks at him, one eyebrow arched questioningly. “If- if you want, you can come home to mine for Christmas.” Keith’s eyes widen and Lance cringes. “Or not. I mean- either way, it’s cool. It’s just- we have a huge family so one more person would not make a difference, in fact my mom would probably even like it. And we cook way too much for fifteen people anyway so like- we wouldn’t be putting in any extra effort, so- yeah, I just, if you- but you can always-“  
  
  
“Lance.”  
  
  
He looks up to see Keith staring at him, lips slightly parted and eyes just impossibly _soft_. “Thank you. I really appreciate it. But uh- I’m not-“  
  
  
“It’s okay,” Lance smiles. “It’s fine if you’re not comfortable with it but- like you said, it’s still two months away and you have plenty of time to decide. Let me know when you do.” Keith nods. “Anyway, goodnight.”  
  
  
“Goodnight,” Keith says and Lance gives him a two finger salute before turning and heading off towards his own room. He kind of hoped Keith didn’t mention this to any of the others. He wouldn’t hear the end of it.  
  
  
In the end, Keith didn’t mention it. Lance did. Hunk only smiled kindly and _proudly_ and patted Lance on the back and said, "that was really sweet of you." Pidge, however, grinned cheekily and said, “Go get your man, Lance.” Lance hates his friends.

* * *

  
  
**iii.**  
 _5 times Hunk cooks for Lance + 1 time Lance cooks for Hunk_  
  
  
 ****  
 **Lance McSlayin’ > Team Diversity **  
****  
****  
6:01 PM  
  
 **Lance McSlayin’**  
Hunk, where r u?  
  
 **Queen Allura**  
Can you not DM him?  
  
 **Lance McSlayin’**  
But then how will u keep up w the Lance-dashians?  
  
 **Keith Kokonut**  
Can I kick him out of the group?  
  
6:05 PM  
  
 **Keith Kokonut**  
Wtf Lance did you change my name again?  
  
 **Smol Pidgeon**  
Yes ages ago.  
I’ve given up trying to change mine back.  
  
 **Space Dad**  
Same.  
  
 **Smol Pidgeon**  
We unanimously selected your nickname, Shiro. No chance you can get out of that one.  
  
 **Keith Kokonut**  
Lance doesn’t know what unanimously means.  
  
 **Lance McSlayin’**  
Seriously where is Hunk  
Keith stfu  
  
 **Handsome Hunk**  
Shit, I’m so sorry Lance, I was studying at Shay’s but the busses have all been cancelled tonight >.<  
I think I’ll be staying here for the night  
  
 **Lance McSlayin’**  
:( :( :(  
  
 **Smol Pidgeon**  
Get a room  
  
 **Lance McSlayin’**  
We HAVE a room… Hunk is just not coming home for the night  
  
  
 **Shiro > KFC (Keith Fan Club)**  
 ****  
6:08 PM  
  
 **Shiro**  
Is anyone in dorms at the moment?  
  
 **Allura**  
No :( At swim practice till 8. What’s up?  
  
 **Shiro**  
Keith has a horrible fever. He just texted me saying he was okay but he didn’t look okay when I met him two hours ago.  
Wondering if anyone can check on him? I’m stuck in the hospital, Slav took a bad hit during hockey.  
  
 **Hunk**  
Stuck across town at Shay’s :(  
Lance?  
  
 **Lance**  
I am indeed in dorms.  
Must I go tend to the prince of darkness.  
  
 **Hunk**  
Lance.  
  
 **Lance**  
I’m kidding, heading over now with some leftovers.  
  
 **Allura**  
<3 <3  
  
 **Shiro**  
Thanks so much, Lance  
I’ll buy you pizza this weekend  
  
 **Lance**  
OK, Dad.  
  
  
Lance sighs and stares at the food on the 2-persons dining table in Hunk and Lance’s shared dorm room. He had been _so excited._ Not just because he had cooked his favourite Cuban dishes, but also (more of a side note really) he was finally getting to complete his 5 + 1 with Hunk! The first three times Hunk had cooked for him (all after exhausting days at therapy), he hadn’t really thought about it. When the fourth and fifth time rolled along (after a bad exam and an excellent assignment), Lance knew this was his chance. So while Hunk headed off to study with Shay that Friday night, Lance headed to the kitchen and cooked up a storm.  
  
  
Said storm was now sitting untouched on the dining table.  
  
  
Lance sighed while putting the food into containers. At least somebody else would hopefully be able to appreciate the meal. A pang of worry suddenly settled in Lance’s stomach. Keith was ill? He hadn’t said anything to anyone… Then again, Keith wasn’t exactly the type to announce if he wasn’t feeling well. It wasn’t really a secret amongst their group that Keith had grown up rough, hadn’t really any home or family. He can’t imagine he had many people to go to when he used to be ill. So now he just- internalised it.  
  
  
Lance squared his shoulders, pulling on a jumper and his shoes, a new determination coursing through him. Keith Kogane was _not_ going to deal with this alone. Not on his watch. He deserved more, he deserved better than being alone.  
  
  
He reaches Keith’s single room and knocks. Nobody replies and Lance reaches for the handle to test it out when the door opens. Keith stands in front of him, jeans and a red jumper, his hair tied back and his eyes sunken.  
  
  
“Lance?” He squints before blinking a few times and shaking his head, as if unsure whether he was hallucinating. “What are you doing here?”  
  
  
“I heard you were ill,” Lance offers, holding up the containers. “I brought dinner.”  
  
  
“Who told you I was ill?” He’s squinting again and Lance almost wants to laugh. “I’m- I’m not. I just-“  
  
  
“Sure, buddy,” Lance says, patting him on the shoulder. “Now can I come in?”  
  
  
“Lance, I don’t need any help,” Keith says, now gritting his teeth and refusing to move out of the way.  
  
  
“Well I do,” Lance replies, keeping his voice light but firm, “because I cooked for Hunk and me and he’s stuck across town and I have a shit ton of food to finish. So- really, _I_ need _your_ help.” Keith stares at him, assessing, but Lance is impatient, wants to help, and frankly it is _cold_ in the corridor so he pushes on, “Now can I come in?”  
  
  
Keith huffs out a breath, his shoulders dropping but his jaw still tight, before moving aside. But movement seems to be the wrong course of action for Keith and his face twists into an expression Lance recognises immediately because he had been cursed with a terrible immune system and got ill, like, every other week and he can spot an _I’m about to throw up_ expression from a mile away. Keith lurches away from him and sprints into his en-suite just in time to empty the contents of his stomach into the toilet. Lance shuts the door behind him and grabs some kitchen roll before entering the bathroom.  
  
  
Keith is on his knees, one hand braced against the rim of his bathtub and the other on the side of the toilet bowl. Lance moves to kneel beside Keith and reaches out to push his bangs out of his face. Keith immediately stiffens but Lance is too caught up by how _warm_ Keith’s skin is to notice.  
  
  
“I don’t _need_ your help. Get out, Lance,” He grits out but his voice is shaky and his eyes are wet and Lance doesn’t think there’s a damn thing in the world that would make him leave.  
  
  
“I’m not going anywhere and the faster you accept that, the easier it will be for both of us,” Lance replies calmly, gently, the hand holding Keith's hair pressing reassuringly into his scalp. Keith isn’t looking at him, staring at the wall instead, almost angrily. “Keith, it’s okay.” Before Keith can reply, he’s lurching forward again. “Does it burn your throat?” Keith breathes hard into the toilet, eyes squeezing shut, before he nods curtly. “Okay, it’s acid then. You need to eat or drink something.”  
  
  
“I don’t need help,” Keith repeats, his voice soft now. There’s no more anger, no more stiffness. Just- _exhaustion_.  
  
  
“I know you don’t,” Lance replies, holding out the tissues in his other hand. Keith takes them, sitting back on his bum, and wipes his mouth. Lance flushes the toilet and sits back too. He waits for the flush to complete before continuing, “But I’m here anyway. So- you know- you’re just going to have to suck it up and deal with it.” Keith breathes out a laugh, his eyes shining slightly, and nods slightly. They sit there for a few moments while Keith calms a little more and then Lance stands up, holding his hand out. After a moment of hesitation, Keith slips his hand into Lance’s and Lance pulls him up.  
  
  
“Christ, you are really hot,” Lance exclaims as the scalding heat from Keith’s palm presses into Lance’s. He registers what he said a second later and his eyes snap up to Keith’s equally wide ones. “Not hot-hot. As in- fever-hot, like warm. Like- you really need to take a paracetamol and open the windows hot. Like… warm…” He finishes lamely, pushing his hand through his hair awkwardly. Not that Keith _wasn’t_ attractive. Anybody with reasonable eyesight would admit the boy is good looking, in a wannabe-bad boy kind of way. Not that he’d admit it. Nope. No way. Not a chance. Be gone, thoughts.  
  
  
“Lance?” He shakes his head from the distracting thoughts (seriously, be gone!) and turns to Keith, who he can swear looks a bit pink. Maybe it’s the fever. It’s probably the fever. “Shut up.”  
  
  
Lance barks out a laugh before nodding and heading towards the small table by the attached kitchenette. He pulls out a chair and gestures for Keith to sit. “Did you take a paracetamol?” Keith nods, sitting down, and Lance places a glass of water in front of him. “Drink.” He opens the window just a crack and puts the kettle on boil. “Do you have much of an appetite?” Keith shrugs, looking away. Lance knows he hates this. Hates being _taken care of_. Hates needing help. “Do you like Cuban food?”  
  
  
“I’ve… never tried any,” Keith mumbles.  
  
  
“ _Keith_ ,” Lance exclaims. “Buddy. Pal. My man. Keith. Keithikens. Your world is about to be _rocked_.” He sets down two plates and cutlery and begins dishing out small portions onto their plates. “Eat how much ever you feel like honestly, no stress. Listen to your stomach.” He drops into the seat across Keith and looks up to find the other boy staring at him, his expression unreadable. Classic Keith.  
  
  
But he doesn’t say anything, just looks away again and begins trying the food in front of him. Lance smiles inwardly before digging in himself, inhaling the food at an alarming pace. What? He was a growing boy who liked to eat and damn, he did a good job with this batch.  
  
  
“What do you think?” Lance asks expectantly as soon as he sees Keith swallow down his first bite. His eyes widen slightly when he sees a faint pink appear across Keith’s nose and cheeks.  
  
  
He nods. “It’s- it’s really good.”  
  
  
“It’s more than good and you know it,” Lance grins widely before retuning to his meal. He pauses before looking up again through his eyelashes, “Mom usually makes this stuff ten times better during Christmas… in case, you know, you needed a reason to go.”  
  
  
Keith is silent for a few long moments and Lance doesn’t mind his lack of response. But then the other boy seems to steel himself slightly before murmuring in a voice so low that Lance almost misses it, “I think I already have all the reason I need.”  
  
  
Lance tries to bite down a smile but can’t help it spread across his face when Keith stares resolutely down at his plate, tips of his ears red. So he nudges Keith’s foot with his own before saying, “Being ill makes you sappy. It’s kind of gross and freaking me out.”  
  
  
“Yeah well, that’s you all the time and I need to deal with it when you’re _not_ ill,” Keith shoots back. Lance doesn’t get a chance to reply because Keith is suddenly dashing out of his seat and back into the toilet, throwing up. Lance sighs, steals another bite, and follows Keith. He doesn’t know _exactly_ why he’s realised he’s got a very legitimate thing for his long-time sworn rival while said rival was pale, ill and throwing up- but it’s happened. And he sure as hell would make sure to chase this up while Keith wasn’t vomiting his guts out.  
  


* * *

**iv.**  
 _5 times Lance goes to support Allura during competitive sports + 1 time Allura goes to support Lance_  
  
  
 **Lance McSlayin’ > Team Diversity **  
****  
6:10 PM  
  
 **Lance McSlayin’**  
Allura u on ur way?  
  
 **Smol Pidgeon**  
Good luck today, Lance!  
  
 **Handsome Hunk**  
Not like you need it bec you literally have not lost a single competition in the past two years.  
But good luck!!  
  
 **Lance McSlayin’**  
Thank u friends <3  
Allura???  
  
 **Queen Allura**  
Ffffs this is genuinely terrible luck  
I’m stuck at the hospital, they want me to cover an extra shift bec they’re short staffed  
Lance…  
I am so sorry.  
  
 **Lance McSlayin’**  
Ah  
Well no worries!  
You can’t help that you are literally the kindest soul in the universe  
  
  
  
 **Allura > Lance Protection Squad**  
 ****  
6: 14 PM  
  
 **Allura**  
Guys  
This is seriously so awful  
  
 **Keith**  
??  
  
 **Allura**  
I promised Lance I would go support him at the swim semis tonight…  
He’s come down for the past 5 competitions to support me and I wanted to be there for him tonight but the hospital…  
  
 **Shiro**  
Yeah I saw the group chat… that sucks :(  
I’m stuck in Altea till 9PM… When does it start?  
  
 **Allura**  
6:30 >.<  
  
 **Shiro**  
Damn… Hunk? Pidge? Keith?  
  
 **Pidge**  
sfsdsfjiadw  
stuck in the lab for another few hours at least  
  
 **Hunk**  
In extra class till 7… I can run over after?  
  
 **Allura**  
Might be over by then.  
UGH  
Of all days…  
  
 **Keith**  
I’m in dorms right now.  
  
 **Allura**  
!!!! Are you free??  
  
  
Keith looks down at the assignment he is currently _on a roll_ with. It was due in two days and he had only just got into the swing of writing it. He had been planning on a evening in, nothing but concentration and no distractions. But his friends needed him. Lance needed him.  
  
There wasn’t even any question about it, no hesitation on what he should do.  
  
  
 **Keith**  
Heading over now.  
  
 **Hunk**  
I will buy you breakfast tomorrow <3 <3  
  
 **Allura**  
I’ll buy lunch <3 <3  
Thank you so much, Keith, I owe you one  
  
 **Pidge**  
Not buying you dinner but tysm  
  
 **Shiro**  
I’ll buy dinner  
Proud of you  
  
 **Pidge**  
Go get ur man Keith  
  
 **Hunk**  
PIDGE. NO.  
  
 **Pidge**  
#Klance  
  
 **Hunk**  
…  
  
 **Shiro**  
…..  
  
 **Allura**  
……  
…  
..  
#Klance  
  
  
Keith’s eyebrows furrow at the string of messages but he shakes his head and pockets his phone. He could deal with those later. He pulls on his red jacket, boots and gloves and half walks half runs to the gym centre. When he gets there, he finds the bleachers around the swimming pool scattered with groups of people. His eyes scan the line of contestants preparing by the edge of the pool just a small distance away from where he’s standing and his eyes land on Lance. The boy is stretching his arms above his head, his toned bare upper body on full display and Keith knows he shouldn’t be _blushing_ but here he is anyway, feeling ridiculously warm. Lance adjusts the waistband of his swim shorts, rolls his shoulders, and exchanges a few words with the coach walking down the line.  
  
  
Keith feels his heart sink when Lance’s eyes drop, disappointment set in his shoulders when he picks his phone up from where it rests on his bag a few paces behind. He seems to be reading his messages and Keith debates typing out a quick text to him, telling him he’s there, when Lance’s eyebrows furrow and his eyes snap up to scan the crowds. They land on him.  
  
  
And Keith feels his heart thundering in his chest when Lance releases a slightly disbelieving laugh before grinning _really_ widely and waving to him. Keith waves back, feeling his neck heat up as he waves back. He doesn’t know why this feels so fucking _intimate_ \- they’re standing miles away from each other in a gymnasium full of people without exchanging any words.  
  
  
The coach blows a whistle and Keith shoots Lance a thumbs up and sits down in the closest free seat. Lance rolls his shoulders again and slips on his swimming goggles.  
  
  
He wins. Of course he does.

* * *

  
  
**v.**  
 _5 times Coran brings Lance a cupcake + 1 time Lance brings Coran one_  
  
  
  
 **Lance McSlayin’ > Team Diversity **  
****  
5:45 PM  
  
 **Lance McSlayin’**  
What’s everyone doing later today?  
  
 **Space Dad**  
I’m free after 8, let’s get dinner?  
  
  
 **Shiro > Lance Protection Squad**  
  
5:46 PM  
  
 **Shiro**  
Shouldn’t Lance be in therapy at the moment???  
  
 **Hunk**  
Literally what I was just thinking??  
He didn’t say anything to me about a cancellation. To any of you?  
  
 **Pidge**  
No :(  
  
 **Keith**  
Nope… Allura? You had class with him today, right?  
  
 **Shiro**  
@Allura Was he OK?  
  
5:50 PM  
  
 **Allura**  
Sorry, just got out of class!  
He didn’t show up at the morning lecture! >.<  
Let me ask Coran  
  
 **Pidge**  
Even if he knows something, I’m pretty sure he isn’t allowed to say… patient/therapist confidentiality and all  
  
 **Hunk**  
He can at least hint at something.  
I’m gonna text him, nobody else do that or he will get overwhelmed  
  
  
 **Hunk Garrett > Lance McClain**  
 ****  
5:51 PM  
  
 **Hunk Garrett**  
Hey bro, you ok?  
  
 **Hunk > Lance Protection Squad**  
 ****  
5:56 PM  
  
 **Hunk**  
OK he is not ok… he didn’t answer my text, it’s been a full five mins  
  
 **Shiro**  
@Allura any news??  
  
 **Allura**  
 _forwarded:_  
 _Hi my dear, I would check in on him._  
^  
From Coran!! Who can get to Lance fastest? I can be there in 20- will run from science building  
  
 **Pidge**  
15 mins, from computer sciences bldg  
  
 **Shiro**  
At Cafe :((( Stuck here till 7 but can call in family emergency?  
  
 **Hunk**  
Got a meeting w examiner in 4 mins but can also cancel for family emergency  
  
 **Keith**  
I’m already omw to him- be there in 2.  
  
 **Allura**  
Thank fuck… pls keep us updated!! I’m heading out now anyway  
  
 **Keith**  
Will do, dw  
  
 **Hunk**  
Thank u so much, Keith. Keep us updated. The door should be unlocked if he’s feeling unwell.  
  
  
Keith is already a mess of nerves by the time he reaches Lance and Hunk’s shared dorm room. He’s nervous because he’s never had to _comfort_ anybody… but more nervous because, well, _fuck_ Lance wasn’t feeling okay. He’s known Lance has had mental health problems for almost a year now. It’s been a rocky journey, once that he hasn’t really been part of because they were never close like that. Up until recently, that was okay because he never really liked getting involved with other people’s issues- not because he didn’t care, but just because he didn’t think he could be much use. He grew up with no support, no care, no love- so how the hell could _he_ be of any use to someone in their time of need? He would probably just make it worse. Besides, Lance had better people to support him- _good_ people- like Shiro and Hunk and literally anybody else.  
  
  
But now? Now he would rather risk being a shitty support system to Lance than not being there at all. Because over the last month or two, they had grown to become more than what they were before. And Keith knows, without a doubt, that Lance deserves someone by his side no matter what. Lance deserves a hand to hold and a shoulder to cry on, no matter how uncomfortable the shoulder or clammy the hand. He deserves _something_ to tell him he isn’t alone in this. And Keith was sure as hell going to give that to him.  
  
  
With one final glance at his phone, where he can see dozens of new texts from their groups, he silences it and slips it into his pocket. He takes a deep breath and knocks. There’s no reply and Keith wonders whether Lance is in at all. But then he remembers the quiet dinner in which Hunk had told them, sans Lance, that Lance shuts people out when he’s not feeling well because he thinks it’s better for everyone else (“he doesn’t want to 'be a burden',” Hunk had quoted angrily). And Keith can feel a bit of that anger now. _Stupid Lance and his stupid self-sacrifice_. Lance could _never_ be a burden, even if he tried.  
  
  
Keith tries the doorknob and as Hunk predicted, the door is unlocked. “Lance, I’m coming in so- if you don’t want me to, now’s the time to say it.” A beat of silence before he adds, “It’s, uh, Keith by the way.” When there’s no reply, Keith pushes the door open to a mostly dark room. Stepping inside, he sees that the curtains are drawn shut and only the lamp on Lance’s writing desk is switched on. Also on the desk is a laptop playing soft and slow music and a single cupcake. His eyes finally land on the lump in Lance’s bed.  
  
  
He closes the door behind him and hesitatingly steps towards Lance, who’s buried into his duvet and staring at the ceiling with his lips pursed. Unsure what to say or do, Keith just moves closer and perches on the edge of the mattress.  
  
  
“What are you doing here?” Lance croaks out.  
  
  
“You didn’t go to therapy, everyone was worried,” Keith replies, keeping his voice as soft as Lance’s. “Are you okay?” He curses himself and wonders if it really _was_ a good idea- if a shitty support system _is_ truly better than nothing- when Lance’s eyes well up with tears and they slip down the sides of his faces. He lifts his arms out from under the duvet and presses the heels of his palms against his eyes. Keith stays sitting there, completely out of his element and wholly unsure of what to do, as Lance begins to cry.  
  
  
And eventually, after a good ten minutes, Lance begins to calm down. He moves his hands from his face and sits up a little, though still slumped against his pillows.  
  
  
“I’m sorry,” He chokes out, swiping at his eyes with a tissue he grabs off his bedside table.  
  
  
“What are _you_ sorry about?” Keith asks incredulously. “ _I’m_ the one who should be sorry, for having no idea how to help you.”  
  
  
“You’re here, aren’t you?” Lance says after a moment of silence. “You showed up. You didn’t have to…”  
  
  
“Yes I did,” Keith replies, shrugging slightly. They sit in silence, not uncomfortable, until Lance beings to speak again.  
  
  
“I didn’t go to therapy today. I cancelled an hour before… I just couldn’t get out of bed. I- I woke up and I just- felt wrecked. Like I couldn’t move or breathe or- just- one of those days, you know?” His eyes turn to Keith, who nods. “I just feel even shittier because… I’m making so much progress in therapy and then these shitty days happen and I feel like- I feel like a failure all over again.”  
  
  
“Recovery isn’t a linear journey,” Keith says. “Having a rough time doesn’t undo the progress you’re making. And it sure as hell doesn’t make you a failure.”  
  
  
Lance stares at Keith, fresh tears welling up in his eyes. He quickly blinks them away, a few slipping down his cheeks, before nodding. “Thank you.”  
  
  
“And- you don’t have to be silent when you’re struggling. You have a group of friends who care about you very much and would drop anything to come be with you.”  
  
  
“I don’t like feeling like a responsibility,” Lance mumbles, eyes downcast.  
  
  
Keith isn’t sure what _exactly_ possesses him to do so, but he reaches out to cover Lance’s hand with his own. Lance’s eyes snap up to meet his. “You aren’t a responsibility. You aren’t a burden. You’re our friend. And you’d do the same for us- so give us some credit and let us do the same for you, okay?”  
  
  
Lance nods and before Keith can register what’s happening, Lance has flung himself into Keith, who can do nothing but catch him in his arms. Keith hugs him back, hoping Lance cannot hear his inappropriately fast beating heart in the impossibly quiet room. He’s not a stranger to hugs anymore- not since joining this group of friends. Shiro makes it a point to hug him every time they meet, and Hunk and Allura are huggers too, so he gets enough of them now to no longer be uncomfortable. But this is _different._ Lance is… _Lance is different._  
  
  
And he’s beginning to be okay with that. There are some things in life that you just can’t run away from. Lance McClain is apparently one of them.  
  
  
“What’s with the cupcake, by the way?” Keith asks as they settle against his pillows to a quiet night of playing video games.  
  
  
Lance glances towards the cupcake on the desk and sighs heavily and Keith hopes he has not upset him again.  
  
  
“Coran has got me a cupcake for the last five therapy sessions. I was going to give him one back today. But I guess that didn’t work out…” He says forlornly. “The trope gods are against me.”  
  
  
“The… what?” Keith’s eyebrows come together in confusion.  
  
  
“Nothing,” Lance says and Keith is surprised to find Lance smiling to himself. “But the trope’s loss is our gain so- would you like to split a cupcake?”  
  
  
 **Keith > Lance Protection Squad**  
 ****  
6:25 PM  
  
 **Keith**  
Lance will be okay.. we’re playing video games.  
Quiet night in  
  
 **Shiro**  
Keith, you’re a hero  
Thank you xx  
  
 **Allura**  
Love you, Keith  
  
 **Pidge**  
…..quiet night in….just the two of you…..?  
  
 **Shiro**  
Pidge, no.  
  
 **Hunk**  
Keith don’t u dare replace me as his bff  
But also ily tysm  
  
 **Pidge**  
….just the two of you?????  
  
 **Allura**  
………together?  
  
 **Shiro**  
ALLURA  
  
 **Hunk**  
#Klance is finally happening  
  
 **Pidge**  
#Klance  
  
 **Allura**  
#klance !!!!!!  
  
 **Shiro**  
..  
#Klance4eva

* * *

  
  
It’s two weeks later that Lance barges into Keith’s room, unannounced and without knocking. Keith glances up from the sketch he’s working on, still not completely used to Lance’s obtrusive friendship being directed at _him_. He feels slightly awkward this time, though, considering it was the first time Lance had just shown up to his _room_ without making any plans. All their previous encounters over the last month or so had mostly been unintentional- unexpected, unplanned. And Keith would be lying if he said he hadn’t secretly liked all of them.  
  
  
Keith would also normally hate it if somebody were to flop into _his_ bed, invading his very personal private space. But for some reason when _Lance_ does it, Keith finds himself feeling a bit warm.  
  
  
“I give up,” Lance says, demanding attention.Keith puts his pencil down, turning to the boy who is dramatically spread across his bed staring at the ceiling.  
  
  
“Give up terrible puns? Give up memes? Give up trying to write essays the day before the deadline? You’ll have to be more specific.”  
  
  
“I give up trying to make a five-plus-one trope happen in my life.”  
  
  
“I literally have no fucking clue what that means.”  
  
  
“Of course you don’t,” Lance rolls his eyes, turning to face Keith. “It’s this trope fan-fiction writers use.” This time, it’s Keith who rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, only nerds read fan-fiction, blah blah, I’ve heard it before.”  
  
  
“I never said that, but go on.”  
  
  
“So it’s this trope where five similar things happen and then one thing happens that’s the opposite to the other five,” Lance says, suddenly realising it’s harder to explain the trope than he thought. “Like for example- five times Bellamy saves Clarke- plus the one time Clarke saves Bellamy.”  
  
  
“You really need to _try_ to be less obsessed with that ship,” Keith says. “For your own sanity. Seriously.”  
  
  
“I will have you know that they _belong_ together! It has been _six_ seasons, Keith, _SIX_ seasons. Of longing glances and casual touches and the most _incredible_ hugs and the writers still want us to think they’re _platonic_? No thank you! Now stop getting distracted.”  
  
  
“ _I’m_ getting distracted?!”  
  
  
Lance waves his hand dismissively. “But basically that’s the five-plus-one trope. Another example- five times Person A tries to win the game plus the one time he actually does. Like that! You get it?” Keith half-shrugs half-nods.  
  
  
“So why are you giving up on this trope?”  
  
  
“Five times Pidge helps Lance with work- plus the one time Lance helps Pidge with work- _failed!_ ” Lance begins counting off his fingers the other four situations he had masterfully set up, only for them to fail.  
  
  
“Wait, so you’ve been carefully crafting all those situations for _months_ in order to make this trope happen in your life?  
  
  
“A dream for literally _anybody_ , yeah,” Lance says. Keith refrains from commenting. “I couldn’t have planned any of those five situations out more carefully- and _still_ something or the other went wrong. I guess the upside is, I unintentionally ended up hanging out with you instead."  
  
  
“And now you’re here _intentionally_ hanging out with me,” Keith says, picking up his pencil again. “A terrifying thought. All those years of enmity down the drain…” His attention back on his sketch, he doesn’t notice Lance’s eyes widen comically.  
  
  
“Holy shit.”  
  
  
“What?”  
  
  
“Holy _shit!”_ Keith sighs and turns back to Lance, who is sitting up now. “That’s it. That is literally the trope.”  
  
  
“What?”  
  
  
“Five times I unintentionally hung out with you- plus the one time it was intentional. Tables turning, relationships building, character development, a happy resolution- that’s it! That’s the trope! _You_ are my trope. _You_ made it happen. I have been trying so hard to make it happen and it just… it just _happened!_ I could literally kiss you right now.”  
  
  
They stare at each other, Keith’s pen frozen above his paper but his eyes locked with Lance’s.  
  
  
“Kill. I could literally kill you right now. Damn autocorrect.”  
  
  
“Lance, we’re having a verbal conversation.”  
  
  
“Right. Yes. That is- that is indeed the situation. At hand. That’s what’s going on. Other than a great trope.”  
  
  
“Lance.”  
  
  
Lance smiles awkwardly as Keith shoots him a reassuring smile. “Sorry. That was- not what I expected to say.”  
  
  
“Freudian slip?”  
  
  
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Lance allows his smile to grow wider, unashamed.  
  
  
“I’m not disgusted by the idea,” Keith replies, slightly hesitatingly. He’s not used to all these… _feelings_. Even less used to confronting such feelings.  
  
  
“Oh,” Lance says and Keith can see his eyes lighting up, the tips of his ears going red. He can feel his own face growing warm as he moves to sit beside Lance. And he can’t believe what he was going to do, but he couldn’t _not_ because Lance was good and warm and _deserved to be kissed, god dammit._  
  
  
So he leans forward and presses his lips against Lance’s, who only takes a moment before responding.  
  
  
“Is this fan-fiction enough for you?” Keith breathes, splitting away for a moment.  
  
  
Lance pulls away further, stares at Keith for a second before laughing loudly. “Oh my _god_ , that was _so fucking_ cheesy! Jesus _Christ,_ Keith Kogane. Is this what romance reduces you to?” Keith’s cheeks heat up and he pushes Lance away half-heartedly by the chest.  
  
  
“Screw you, McClain,” He says, rolling his eyes.  
  
  
Lance grabs Keith’s hand and straightens up, pulling them closer again. “I’m only joking. But sappy Keith means happy Lance.” He grins and Keith groans.  
  
  
“Disgusting. We need rules on what’s allowed to be said.”  
  
  
“I can’t believe you _like_ me. Like like-like me. Doesn’t that upset your stomach or something?”  
  
  
“This was a terrible idea,” Keith decides, flopping backwards onto his bed.  
  
  
“You _actually_ willingly like-like me,” Lance says, squeezing his hand. And its at this exact moment that Pidge, Hunk, Allura and Shiro walk through the door. Pidge stops first, staring at the sight in front of her. Their joined hands, Lance’s bright smiling face, Keith’s blushed and bothered expression. _Their joined hands._  
  
  
“Oh my god,” Pidge says, moving over to allow the others the chance to bear witness to _this_. “Guys… guys,” she reaches behind her to grab the first thing she can- Allura’s arm. “ _Guys!_ You’re seeing this, right?”  
  
  
“Is this what I think has happened?” Hunk asks.  
  
  
“Keith likes me. Romantic styles,” Lance grins widely.  
  
  
“Someone fucking shoot me,” Keith pinches the bridge of his nose tiredly.  
  
  
“It fucking _happened_!” Pidge yells, turning to the others. “It _fucking happened!_ ”  
  
  
“Pidge, like with most things in both academics and life, did call this,” Hunk says.  
  
  
“Hashtag Klance,” Shiro grins and Keith is horrified to see _pride_ in his expression. Why did this make him _proud?_  
  
  
“I love a good enemies-to-friends-to-lovers trope,” Allura smiles. Lance’s head snaps in her direction.  
  
  
“What did you just say?”  
  
  
“I said that I love a good enemies-to-friends-to-lovers trope,” She repeats, looking confused.  
  
  
Keith is smiling before Lance has even fully processed what this means for him.  
  
  
“I… I managed _more than one trope?!”_  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed that! I was a big fan of the idea that their group has separate group chats aside from their main one that have everyone except the one person to chat is dedicated to taking care of. I just love Voltron family fluff and feels and support. But also Klance is wonderful. Hope you all enjoyed that! Please do leave feedback if you liked it, and hit kudos and bookmarks!  
> Love and hugs to you all during this scary and crazy time in the world and hope you are doing okay. Stay safe xx


End file.
